October 8th

“When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, ‘Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?’” Matthew 9:11

we open the envelope
and cannot wait to tell
everyone we know that
we have received VIP tickets
to the concert considered
the best in all the eras of time.
we put on our black-tie gear
and the brand-new evening gown
and are delighted to discover
we are seated with the CEO
and entourage at the banquet.
we walk the privileged streets,
live in privileged homes and
drive privileged vehicles, and
never seem to hear that
whispered question—
‘why aren’t YOU eating
with the forgotten,
the vulnerable,
the despised?’

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 7th

“Deep calls to deep” Psalm 42:7a

in the quiet breath just
before the sun peeks
over the horizon, when
even the birds are asleep,
your silence draws near,
and with a heartbeat
not a banging of drums,
with gentle persistence
of compassion which never fades,
deep calls to deep.
and my worries are cradled
in your waiting stillness,
my questions find grace
wider than any ocean.
and the thoughts, the prayers,
the fears, the failures, all
the shattered bits of me
are gathered in your mercy,
and as the waves of hope
softly lap at my feet
i sink deeper and deeper
into the presence
which is you.

(c) 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 6th

“Therefore, my dear friends, flee from the worship of idols.” 1 Corinthians 10:14

surely,
it is not idolatry
to constantly check out
what the knuckleheads
are saying or x-ing or ‘gramming,
so that we might wail
and moan and rant about
their false and hateful words,
words which strangely seduce us
to listen to them (maybe)
more than we do to those
of grace, of hope, of love.
words which entice us
to continually gorge at their feast
of bile and bitterness—
rather than running
to that table rounded by love,
where hope is always
the entrée, and grace
is the main topic of conversation.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 5th

“I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you.” 2 Timothy 1:5

maybe it was in the warm kitchen,
where gran scattered flour
on the scarred tabletop, to roll out
the dough which would soon become
stars, trees, candy canes, that you
heard that carol for the first time.
maybe it was in the pew
as your mom traced her finger
under the words in the hymnal,
and you discovered how letters
and strange shaped notes on lines
came together to touch your heart.
maybe it is those echoes,
those smells, the lingering memories
of quiet love that shaped your life
in ways you can barely explain,
but come together as you sing
those same old songs
in the winter of your life—
and God smiles.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 4th

“Turn, O LORD! How long?
   Have compassion on your servants!” Psalm 90:13

come close, God,
come close in corridors
where whispers haunt,
in crowded roads surrounded
by more cars than we can count.
come close, God,
come close where we soak
our tears in our pillows,
when we walk down roads
potholed from bitter hearts.
come close, God,
with your compassion which
never dries up,
with your presence which
never punches a timecard,
with songs you compose
from our weary sighs.
come close, God,
always listening,
always loving,
always with us.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 3rd

“If I proclaim the gospel, this gives me no ground for boasting, for an obligation is laid on me, and woe to me if I do not proclaim the gospel!” 1 Corinthians 9:16

do birds choose not to sing
to awaken the world each day?
does a creek decide which rock
it will wear down over the years?
this good news, this gospel,
these words which remind us
that love is not a choice,
that justice is not a once
in a blue moon sort of thing,
that hope is not something
we can take or leave—
tugs at our sleeves until
we stop and turn toward mercy,
whispers gently in the night,
pulls us out of our easy lives
until trying to keep silent
brings tears to our eyes.
and so, with trembling lips,
worrying about what to say,
the Holy One turns
our stammering into carols,
our empty hands into food,
our faltering faith into grace
beyond mere words.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 2nd

“my soul waits for the Lord
     more than those who watch for the morning,
     more than those who watch for the morning.” Psalm 130:6

now, in the waiting,
may i unclench my fear
and lean, open-hearted,
toward dawn’s whisper.
now, in the waiting,
may my eyes, more weary
than those of a night nurse,
look for the soft, slow spill
of sunlight over the town.
now, in the waiting,
where shadows linger
on those nights which seem slower
than the crawl of a turtle,
may i hear that low, gentle
hum of hope just below
every trembling breath.
and in the morning,
every morning,
may we discover Grace
has risen long before
we open our eyes.

© 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman